


Break

by IvanW



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Breakup, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Quitting, Riverside
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-01-24 06:19:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 15,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1594718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IvanW/pseuds/IvanW
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a battle with Klingons that cost multiple lives, Jim quits Starfleet, suffering from PTSD. His former lover, Spock, comes to Riverside to reclaim him for the Federation and perhaps for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Spock Arrives

“How long do you intend to stay here?”

Jim shook his head. Figures they’d send Spock of all people. Vulcans. Whatever. “Forever?”

Spock dropped to his haunches. His brown eyes assessed Jim, judged him. He was pretty sure whatever Spock saw was bad. It was always bad with Spock.

“Clarify,” Spock said, his voice flat. He might as well be speaking to an ensign who had just fucked up. There was no warmth, no familiarity.

“I’m not going back to Starfleet, Spock. They’ve wasted your time. Leave me alone.” He closed his eyes and leaned against the side of the barn.

“It is believed you are suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Captain.”

“Yeah, well. I’m staying here.”

“You are resigning your commission to remain in Riverside,” Spock said in the same flat voice. A statement not a question.

“Sure.”

“I see.” A long silence followed. “Why are you sitting in the barn?”

Jim laughed humorlessly. “I was gonna go for a ride on that horse there.” He pointed in the general direction of the stable. “I fell.”

“You are intoxicated.”

“No shit.” He felt himself being yanked to his feet. “Hey.”

“Cease to speak until you are in the house.” Spock dragged him out of the barn and to the farmhouse. He tried the door but Jim had locked it. “Where is the key?”

Jim didn’t answer.

“Captain, where is the key?”

“You told me not to speak until I was _in_ the house,” Jim said, then laughed.

“Is it on your person?” Spock demanded.

Jim sighed and took the key out of his front pocket. Before he could put it in the door, Spock snatched the key out of  his hand and opened it. He pulled Jim inside and closed the door.

“Sit,” Spock ordered.

“I’m too fucking tired for this. Why don’t you just go? I already said I’m not going back.”

“Sit.”

Jim gave a weary sigh and sat down in the nearest dining room chair. “Now will you go?”

“No. I intend to make the caffeinated beverage known as coffee so that you will sober up.”

“Why?”

“As I stated, you are suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder due to the loss of one hundred fifty crewmen in the Klingon battle near Sydra IV as well as the lives of two million civilians on Sydra IV including your brother, his wife, and their son, Peter.”

“Then why send you of all people? Vulcans. Whatever.” Jim buried his face in his hands. “You are the last one I expected to see.”

“I am still your first officer even if our relationship has ended.”

“I’m not your captain anymore. I quit. Just like you quit us.”

Spock went over to the kitchen sink. “I am making coffee.”

“If they were going to send someone here to bother me, why send you? Why not send Bones?”

“Dr. McCoy was not available.” Spock started the coffeemaker.

Jim’s stomach clenched. “What’s wrong with Bones?”

Spock said nothing, just took a mug out of the cabinet above his head like he was familiar with the layout of the house.

“Is he okay?” Jim asked.

“The doctor is experiencing some traumatic after-effects from the Klingon battle himself. He is in treatment.”

“Oh.” Jim closed his eyes. Of course he was. So much death. So much destruction. “I need a drink.”

“No, you do not. Engaging in extreme alcoholic consumption will not bring any of them back, will not change the circumstances of the battle. We were victorious, Captain.”

“Not to me. All those lives, Spock. God, it was like Vulcan all over again.”

“Similar,” Spock said softly.

Jim wished he could take the words back. Vulcan had been six billion lives. It was not the same. He swallowed the lump in his throat. It was painful.

“I hadn’t seen Sam and Aurelan in years. I’d never met Peter. But…all those crewmembers? I saw them every damn day. I lived with them, laughed with them. And now they’re gone.”

“Death is a part of life. It is inevitable. No one can change that. Even you.”

“I don’t think I can be part of that anymore.”

Spock brought him a cup of black coffee. “You are hurting now and not thinking clearly.”

“I’ve hurt before. I sometimes can’t think of a time when I wasn’t. But I’ve always been able to put it aside.” He shook his head. “Not this time.”

Jim was surprised when Spock knelt in front of him. He looked up, startled. Spock reached for his hands.

“You do not need to do this alone.”

“Don’t I? You didn’t want to be with me, remember, Spock? You’re going to create new Vulcans with some Vulcan mate chosen for you for that purpose.” Jim’s heart seemed to split apart at the reminder. “I don’t blame you.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did I find you kissing that yeoman?” Spock asked hoarsely.   

“You didn’t want to be with me, Spock. You told me you had agreed to take a Vulcan mate, to recreate the population. As your father, as all of them wanted.” Jim remembered. Nothing had ever hurt so much. Nothing. “And she was there and she was willing and she wanted me.”

“You slept with her.” The tone was back to that void of feeling, void of warmth.

Jim nodded, feeling his chest burn. “It was stupid and wrong and fucked up. Just like my life. Just like now.”

“I had changed my mind,” Spock said.

“I didn’t know that then. I just know I had a gaping hole.” Jim shook his head, removed his hands from Spock’s grip. “I still do. You should go. It’s over. Everything. Starfleet. Us.”

“And what will you do here? Drink yourself to death? Kill yourself one day? I cannot allow that. I will not.”

“You don’t have a choice. I don’t want you here.”

Spock’s jaw tightened. “That is unfortunate, Captain, because I am not leaving.”

“God, you are so stubborn.”

“I am well matched with yourself.” Spock stood. “I am going to make us dinner.”

“Don’t you have to go back to Starfleet?”

“Not until I bring you with me.”      


	2. Hurt

“Do you need more coffee?” Spock asked from beside the stove.

“What I need is for you to do as I told you and leave.”

Spock shrugged. “As you have stated, you are not my captain. I am not required to obey your orders.”

Jim watched Spock as he cut vegetables. God, he looked good. He had dressed in black trousers with black ankle boots and a black sweater. “That’s a good color on you. I’ve always thought so.”

Spock didn’t answer and really Jim hadn’t expected him to say anything. That ship had sailed, as the saying went. He’d tried the relationship. Had failed miserably.

He rose from his chair and went over to the coffeemaker to pour himself more.  “And everyone else?”

“They are as good as can be expected under the circumstances. They’ve all been put on temporary leave until the ship has been repaired and their captain agrees to return to duty,” Spock replied.

“They’re in for a long wait,” Jim said dryly. “They’re better off with a new one.”

“They do not want a new one. They all want you as their captain. You _are_ their captain, Jim.”

He stared into his coffee. “Not anymore. You can be their captain.”

“I have no desire to have that position. If you are not the captain of the Enterprise, I will seek a position somewhere else.”

“You can’t do that,” Jim protested. “Don’t make my choices affect yours.”

“They do affect mine whether you wish to acknowledge it or not. And they affect those of the rest of the crew. Each person’s choices affect the lives of others. It is the way of things.” Spock tossed vegetables into a skillet.

“How long can I expect you to stay here before you give up?” Jim asked, going over to the fridge and removing the carton of cream for his coffee.

“I will not give up.”

“You can’t stay here forever.”

“I suppose we will both find out,” Spock replied.

“What are you really doing here, Spock? You can’t possibly want to deal with me anymore.”

“Whatever the failings of our personal relationship, you were still a competent starship captain.”

“Competent?” Jim snorted. “Don’t bowl me over with compliments.”

“You do not need them.” Spock went to the fridge and took out butter.

Jim leaned against the counter. “Are you with her?”

“You will need to explain.”

“Uhura. Are you with her again?” Jim felt a little pain behind his eyes. He blinked it away.

“You assume because our relationship ended I would return to Nyota?”

“I don’t know. Or are you really going to mate with a Vulcan female like your father wants?” Jim took a sip of his coffee and felt it burn down his throat. He really wished it was Scotch.

“I am not with Nyota. I will always consider her my friend.”

Jim nodded. “And me? Are we friends now?”

“I always shall be your friend, Jim.”

Jim watched him continue to cook. “So? You didn’t really answer my other question.”

“Explain.”

“You said before you had changed your mind about going to New Vulcan. Have you changed it back?”

“If I remain on the Enterprise, I will not.”

Jim’s throat constricted. “And if you do not, you will?”

“It is likely,” Spock said quietly. “It is desired that every Vulcan who is able, attempt to help with the population crisis. It is not our way to contribute sperm and walk away, so that is not really an option.”

“I don’t blame you for doing it. I never did. I knew the reasons,” Jim admitted. “They were completely logical. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one.”

“Yes, that was the reasoning,” Spock agreed.

“It was selfish of me to fight you on it,” Jim said. “I know that. But hell, I can be pretty selfish sometimes. And I just wished…I don’t know. That I mattered for once.”

“I did not wish to hurt you.”

“Yeah. You did though,” Jim said. “It’s funny, really. I should be used to it by now. God knows you flaunted Uhura in front of me long enough. You knew how I felt. You didn’t care. You’ve betrayed me. You’ve rejected me. And still I keep asking for more. I’ve been abused. I’ve been starved. I survived Tarsus. But you? I don’t think I can survive you, Spock. You did hurt me.  More than anyone ever has.” Jim walked away and out of the kitchen without looking back at Spock. Then he paused and said over his shoulder, “I’ll set up a room for you.”


	3. She Was Killed

Chapter 3

He was taking too long.

Spock turned the heat off the vegetables he was cooking and went in search of Jim. It unsettled him to leave Jim without supervision. It did not matter that Jim had already been in Riverside a week before Spock had been able to come. It could not have been helped.

“Captain?” Spock asked, walking through the farmhouse in search of him. He went up the stairs to the second floor and heard a sort of clanging noise from the room at the end of the hall. “Captain?”

He pushed open the partially closed door.

Jim stood by the bed with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He lowered it from his lips. Anger spiked through Spock and it was difficult to suppress it. He stomped over to his captain and wrenched the bottle away.

“Is this what you have come to? Sneaking up here to consume alcohol.”

“Give it back.”

“I will not. I am going to empty this and all bottles you have,” Spock told him.

“You can’t.”

“I can. I will not allow you to drink yourself to death.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed in a vicious glare. “Get out! Get out of my goddamn house, Spock.”

“No.”

“Why? Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because I am your friend. Before I am your first officer. Before I am your lover. I am your friend. And I always will be. Always,” Spock told him. “And I cannot stand by and let you destroy James T. Kirk.”

Jim grimaced and sat down hard on the edge of the bed. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Spock blew out a steadying breath. “You can. You will. I will help you. But you cannot keep fighting me. When was the last time you ate something, Jim?”

Jim shook his head. “I don’t know. I must have eaten something. I don’t know.”

“Then you will come downstairs and we will have dinner. You do not have much food in your home. Tomorrow we will go and purchase what we need.”

Jim stared at him then. His blue eyes somehow intense and vacant at the same time. It concerned Spock. But Jim stood up and with a curt nod preceded Spock out of the bedroom.

When they reached the kitchen, Spock poured the contents of the whiskey bottle down the sink.

“You have others?” Spock asked.

“Somewhere,” Jim said mulishly.

“We will dispose of those after dinner.”

“You’re not my father you know.”

“No, but you need a caregiver.” Spock pointed to the dining room table. “Sit. You may have water or coffee with your dinner.”

Jim’s jaw tightened but he said nothing and took a seat at the table.

Neither of them said anything further as Spock finished the vegetables and then brought plates of them to the kitchen table.

“Water or coffee?” Spock asked. “Or tea, if that is your preference.”

“The coffee is fine.”

Spock refilled Jim’s cup and added cream then brought it to the table and placed it in front of Jim. He sat across from his captain.

He waited to see if Jim would take a bite and when he finally did, Spock took one of his own. “I was surprised you had the vegetables. Your refrigerator was empty except for those and the cream for your coffee.”

“Mrs. Netham from next door brought them from her garden,” Jim replied. “I didn’t have the heart to tell her no. She’s always lived there. She seemed old when I was a kid, but I guess she wasn’t.”

“I am gratified you had a friendly face here.”

“Sweet lady.” Jim gaze lowered and he mostly moved the vegetables around his plate.

“Will you take another bite?”

The blue eyes rose to look at Spock and Spock braced for battle again. But Jim stabbed at a carrot and placed it in his mouth.

“They ask about you,” Spock said to break the silence.

“Who?”

“The crew. Nyota, Mr. Scott. Mr. Sulu. All of them,” Spock said. “They care about you.”

Jim shook his head. “They’ll find someone else to serve under. Someone who won’t get everyone killed.”

“You did not get everyone killed. Jim, you saved more crew members than you lost. Yes, two million Sydra IV civilians died, but three million survived. Because of you. You need to focus on those who lived and not those who died.”

“She was killed, you know.”

Spock was not certain who he meant. “Who?” he asked carefully.

“The yeoman. The one I slept with.” Jim closed his eyes, shook his head. “Her. Her name was Marlena.”

Spock managed not to react. A good thing, he thought. They’d both made mistakes. When he’d begun a relationship with his captain, Spock had always known Jim might not be able to maintain fidelity. He’d chosen to embark on the relationship anyway. They had hurt each other. Perhaps it was too late for their romantic relationship. But no matter the consequences, he would be Jim’s friend.

“I am sorry for her death,” Spock said softly.

Jim nodded, licked his lips. “I didn’t really know her. She just wasn’t you. I needed someone who wasn’t you, Spock.” Jim buried his face in his hands. “I’m sorry. That was a dick thing to say.”

“It is how you were feeling.”

“I don’t wanna feel anything anymore.”

 Spock swallowed. “I know. It will get better.”

Jim lowered his hands, looked at Spock. “Have you seen him? Have you seen Bones? Did I do that to him?”

“I have seen him. And no you did not.”

“It was the death. God, so much death. Vulcan and now this. So much death. Pike was right. I’m not ready. I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready.”

Spock reached for his hand, grasped it. “It will be all right, Jim. Dr. McCoy is recovering. Everyone is. You will too.”

“I don’t know, Spock. I don’t know if I will.”


	4. Four Bottles

Spock had started a fire in the fireplace after dinner and left Jim on the couch in front of it while he searched the house for bottles of alcohol. He’d found four, but was not certain that was all of them because Jim was uncooperative in disclosing their locations.

He came back into the living room and noted Jim had not moved, just continued to stare at the fire.

Starfleet had wanted to send a Betazoid Counselor to talk to Jim, but Spock had strongly recommended against it. He had not believed Jim would be willing to speak with one. He knew enough about Jim’s past to know he didn’t do well when confronted with mental health professionals. At least not at first. Perhaps eventually Jim would be willing. 

Jim sat curled up into himself on one end of the couch, so Spock sat at the opposite end and said nothing. There was a bedroom next to the one Jim apparently was using so Spock had placed his belongings in that room. He wanted to stay with Jim so he could keep an eye on his captain, but he didn’t think Jim would approve of that.

“There’s not much to do in Riverside,” Jim said after the long silence stretched out. “You’ll be very quickly bored.”

“I do not require stimulation to function.”

Jim smiled without humor. “I should probably contact Bones. If it’s possible.”

“It is. The last I spoke with Dr. M’Benga they thought Dr. McCoy would be released by the end of this coming week,” Spock advised.

“That’s good. Will he go back to Georgia, you think?”

“I am not privy to his future plans.”

Jim sighed. “How long is the crew leave?”

“It will take months for the Enterprise to be repaired according to Mr. Scott. I am certain at some point you will be contacted about it.”

“I’ve already received messages from the admiralty.”

“Which you have ignored.”

“Yeah. I don’t want to talk to them.”

“Jim, you will eventually have to.”

Jim smirked, hugged himself. “Will I? I’ve got nothing to say to them. Or to you, really.”

Spock said nothing to that. What could he say?

“It should have been me.”

“Captain?”

“Instead of Sam. He didn’t deserve that.”

“Neither did you.”

Jim shook his head. “I’ve always been fucked up. Never could do anything right. But Sam? He made something of himself. Had a wife, a son. I’ve done nothing.”

“You saved the Earth, you saved the crew, you saved three million people,” Spock said coldly. “How can you call that nothing?”

“Pike was right, just luck.”

“There is no such thing. To say otherwise would be illogical.”

“I am illogical, Spock.”

“I am well aware.”

Jim uncurled and rose from the couch. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

****

Spock woke to the sounds of yelling from Jim’s room. His heart racing, Spock scrambled from bed and hurried from his room to Jim’s and flung open the door. He flicked the light switch to on.

Jim was sitting up in bed, sheets and blankets tangled around him, his chest heaving with labored breathing, his face a ghostly white.

Spock went to the bed. “Jim?”

Sweat was beaded on Jim’s forehead as he stared wide-eyed at Spock. His mouth hung open, short raspy breaths coming out, but no other sound, no words.

Spock gripped Jim by his biceps. “Jim! You are awake. You are safe.”

Jim shook his head frantically, his eyes still staring, haunted.

Spock placed a hand on Jim’s face. “You are safe.”

Jim’s gaze finally focused. “Spock?”

“Yes.”

Jim closed his eyes, exhaled slowly. “That was…God.”

“Do not think of it.” Spock smoothed his fingers over Jim’s temple.

“It’s hard not to.”

“I could help.”

Jim opened his eyes. “No mind melds.”

Spock hesitated, but nodded. “As you wish.”

“I can’t go back to sleep after that. Jesus.”

“If you will permit it, I can stay with you.”

Jim laughed. “Ah, yeah. I don’t think so.”

“Jim—”

“You know what I need?” Jim interrupted. “I need to be numb.”

Spock knew what he meant. “No.”

Jim narrowed his eyes. “I hate you.”

“Perhaps. And I may even deserve your disdain. I still say no.” Spock shook his head. “You should at least try to sleep. Your eyes betray your exhaustion.”

“I’m fine. You should go back to your room.”

Jim’s voice was flat, hard. And it made Spock suspicious.

“Where is it?” he demanded.

“What?”

“The other bottle.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Spock felt his annoyance spike and he forced it down. “You think I am stupid? I know you have one. I know as soon as I walk out that door you will be reaching for it to get drunk. To become numb as you say.”

“What if I am? It’s my fucking life. Not yours.”

“Your life affects mine.”

“Fuck you,” Jim said again, his eyes flashing angrily. “I never agreed to that.”

“Yes you did. When you agreed to pursue a relationship with me.”

“Well, I have un-agreed.”

Spock sighed. “I need meditation.”

“Don’t let me stop you.”

Spock nodded. “I will not.” He reached his hand toward Jim’s neck.

“Wait, what—”

Spock nerve-pinched Jim to unconsciousness.


	5. Shopping

Chapter Five

Jim woke up to soreness in the area where his neck connected to his shoulder. “Son of a bitch! Spock! Fuck.” He rubbed his neck and rose from the bed. Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window.

He stormed down the stairs two at time. “Spock!”

Spock stood in the kitchen. He was currently pouring coffee into a cup.

“You fucking nerve-pinched me.”

Spock didn’t reply, but walked over to the fridge and poured cream into the coffee. “Your morning coffee.” He thrust the mug at Jim.

Jim took it automatically. “What the fuck, Spock? You think you can just go around nerve-pinching people?”

“Negative. Just you.”

“You can’t just nerve-pinch me whenever you want.”

Spock picked up a cup of tea from the counter. “Actually, Jim, I can. There is no lasting damage. You were becoming particularly bothersome during your agitation last night. It seemed the best solution.”

“For you.”

“For both of us. Though admittedly it was more for me.” Spock pointed to the PADD that was on the counter. “I have begun a list of what will be required when we shop in the town for supplies.”

Jim stared at him, then looked at the PADD. “Just like that? You’re going to change the subject?”

“What else is there to say, Captain?”

“There are boundaries, Spock. And nerve-pinching sorta crosses those for anyone.”

“I disagree.”

Jim’s mouth fell open. “You-you disagree?”

“Correct.” Spock picked up the PADD. “If you have nothing specific to add, we will leave after your shower.”

“My what?”

“Shower. I calculate you have not showered since your arrival here. Your scent is becoming offensive.”

“You think you can just order me to take a shower now?”

Spock shrugged. “I can always nerve-pinch you, carry you into the shower and bathe you myself. I had assumed you would rather attend to it yourself.”

“Son of a bitch.”

Spock raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his tea.

“Fine. Fine. Whatever.” Jim turned to head up the stairs.

“By the way,” Spock spoke up as Jim reached the landing. “I confiscated an additional three bottles.”

Jim clenched his fists. His last three bottles? Fuck. He wanted to punch something. Someone. _Spock_. “You had no right.”

He waited a moment to see if Spock would respond, but when he didn’t, Jim went upstairs to shower.

****

“You did not shave?”

Jim fingered the stubble on his jaw. “Obviously, Sherlock.”

Spock inclined his head. “My name is Spock.”

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me you half-witted Vulcan.”

“Resorting to name-calling is beneath you, Captain.” Spock pushed open the door to the grocery store in Riverside.

“So is having a bodyguard and that doesn't stop you,” Jim muttered, selecting a cart. He’d worn a hoody though he really hadn't expected anyone to recognize him. He’d left Riverside behind when he joined Starfleet. But he couldn't be too careful because he didn't want to be stopped by someone who used to know his mother or Sam or Frank or God forbid, his old man.

Spock stuck out like a sore thumb wherever he went so Jim had insisted he wear one, too. The Vulcan hadn't protested since the weather was rather chilly.

Jim couldn't help but think the whole thing seemed ridiculously domesticated which was stupid because they weren't even a couple.

Really, how long had their relationship lasted? The five-year mission began, Spock broke up with Uhura, a month later he and Spock had hot monkey sex after a mission gone horribly wrong, then three months after that Spock informed him that he was going to mate with a Vulcan chosen by the elders to make little pointy-eared babies. And yeah, Jim’s world had shifted and his heart had been pulverized.

“Captain?”

“Jim, Spock. I told you not to use my title in town.”

Spock nodded. “Very well. But you are standing in the middle of the aisle. Perhaps we should begin to select food.”

“Yeah, okay. What’s on the list?”

“More coffee and cream for you,” Spock said studying his PADD. “I wish to observe the tea selection also. Breakfast items such as eggs, potatoes, pancake mix. Bread, more vegetables, meat if you require it.”

“I don’t require it, I desire it.”

“We will purchase some then.”

Jim followed after Spock feeling pretty stupid and out of it really. It’s not like anything mattered. No matter what he did nothing would bring back Sam or his family or Marlena or the other crew or the two million people. Or the six billion Vulcans. Or his dad. Or—

“Jim?”

He had stopped again, he realized, and was just staring at the ground. He blinked and lifted his gaze to Spock. His former first officer didn’t bother to hide the concern in his brown eyes.

“Four thousand people died.”

Spock took a step closer to him. “Jim?”

“On Tarsus IV. They were just murdered. Slaughtered. So other people could live. So I could live.”

“Ashaya,” Spock whispered.

Jim swallowed, shook his head. “Let’s finish the shopping. I can’t wait to get out of here.”    


	6. Knowing Nothing

“What do you want for breakfast?” Spock asked Jim when they returned to the farmhouse.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You will eat. How about an egg and toast?”

“Fine, whatever.” Jim poured himself coffee from the fresh pot he’d made when they first returned. “I’m gonna go sit out on the couch swing on the porch.”

Spock almost frowned. “It is cold out.”

“Coats, Spock. They make them for that kind of thing.” Jim pulled on a light coat. “Unless you want me to help?”

“Negative. I will bring your breakfast out there.”

Jim nodded and then started for the door leading to the screened in porch, but turned and went into the living room and picked up his PADD. He wasn’t even sure why. He hadn’t picked it up once since leaving San Francisco.

He flopped down on the swing and just let himself sway in it for a while. It was old and rusted now. It had been put there by Jim’s grandparents and he wasn’t even sure it was steady anymore, but he sat on it anyway.

Once when he was very small, Jim remembered his grandma sitting with him on it and singing to him. One of his few happy memories here. She’d died soon after, and with his mom off planet, mostly things had taken a bad turn from there.

Jim clutched the PADD. If he looked at it, nothing would change. So why not look? The first message he saw had the title “List of Lost Crewmembers.”

What a great place to start, he thought, shaking his head. But he opened the message and the attachment that Admiral Komack’s assistant had sent him.

Jim’s eyes skimmed over the names, recognizing them all of course. He stopped at Marlena’s. Now two women he had sex with had been killed. Gaila first in the battle with Nero and now Marlena. Jim thought it was pretty fucked.

His gaze stopped on a name near the bottom, Lieutenant Martin Bowers, biologist. Jim blinked, his eyes going blurry, and then focused again. His stomach twisted.

The door opened and Spock stepped onto the porch carrying two plates of food. He handed one to Jim together with a fork. He sat in a patio lounge chair across from Jim. He’d pulled on what looked like a parka to Jim.

“Thanks,” Jim said softly.

Spock’s gaze went to the PADD. “What are you doing?”

“Reading the names of the dead crew members.”

“Jim.” Spock shook his head. “Perhaps now is not a good time.”

“When will a good time be, Spock?” Jim asked wearily. He blew out a shaky breath. “Martin Bowers name is on the list.”

Spock nodded but said nothing.

Jim felt his throat constrict. “He was your friend, right? You guys did some work in the labs.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know what to say, Spock. I’m sorry.”

Spock didn’t say anything for a long time. He slowly raised the mug to his lips and took a sip of his tea. “There was nothing you could have done to prevent what happened to him.”

Jim’s gaze dropped to the PADD where next to each name was a description of how they died. He grimaced. “Burns over three quarters of his body. That’s…that’s awful.”

“Everyone is aware of the risks when they enlist in Starfleet,” Spock said quietly.

“Yeah, I know, Spock. But he was your friend.”

“He discussed his sister and her children with me.”

“Yeah? What did you discuss with him? Anything?”

“Nothing personal,” Spock said. “He often tried to get me to speak of personal matters and I was reluctant to do so.”

That didn’t surprise Jim at all. Spock didn’t even talk to him about much. And Jim really hadn’t pressed. It had been all about getting Spock into bed. Jesus.

“How can you stand me?” Jim muttered.

Spock stared at him, brown eyes unreadable. “Eat your breakfast, Jim.”

“Yeah, okay.” Jim picked up his plate and stabbed a fork into the fried egg. He chewed the bite he put in his mouth. “I used to sit out here with my grandmother.”

“You were close?”

“From what I remember, yeah. What about you, Spock? Do you remember your grandparents?”

“I never met my mother’s parents. But I do remember my father’s. They were well respected and revered Vulcans.”

Jim frowned. “And how did they treat you?”

“With respect.”

“No affection?”

Spock raised a brow. “Negative. To do so would have been illogical. I was not mistreated, Jim.”

Jim nodded, licked his lips. “Okay. Good.” He took a bite of his toast. “And friends?”

“Friends?”

“Some of your little Vulcan classmates?”

“No, they were not my friends.”

“Oh.” Jim didn’t know why but that made him feel even worse. He shook his head.

Spock finished his breakfast in silence. “Do not stay out here for long.”

Jim’s eyes followed him into the house. How did you spend three months in a relationship with someone and know next to nothing about them? Was that the reason Spock could so easily agree to leaving Jim behind?

He hadn’t even discussed it with Jim first. Just announced he was going to be mated with a Vulcan woman.

Jim shook his head. What did it matter now? Nothing really did.


	7. Correspondence

Chapter 7

Spock went back in the house, removed his coat and then made himself more tea. He sat on the couch in the living room and picked up his PADD. He had some correspondence to see to since his arrival the day earlier. More privacy would be preferable as Jim might interrupt at any time but he did not wish to put too much distance between them. Not yet.

He’d meditated for a short time last night after he’d made Jim unconscious. It had not been long enough. There was a mind meld technique Spock knew of that he considered using with Jim. It would allow Jim to forget much of what pained him. It was seldom used. Spock thought most of the time it was better to have the memories rather than to think they never happened. With Jim’s obvious pain he was not so certain.

But meditating about it had not made Spock’s decision.

He had messages from Nyota, Mr. Scott, and his father. He dealt with the one from Mr. Scott first since he knew it would be about the Enterprise. Since Spock was, at the moment, acting captain, it was only logical that he consult with Mr. Scott.

The message from Nyota was of a personal nature inquiring after Spock and how matters were proceeding with Jim.

_Greetings Nyota,_

_I arrived yesterday afternoon at the captain’s residence. He has been reluctant to accept assistance in maintaining optimal mental health. Otherwise, I believe the situation is manageable._

_I am gratified to hear your physical injuries are healing at an elevated rate compared to what was originally hypothesized._

_I will provide an update later this week on my progress with the captain._

_Spock_

He left it at that and sent it to her. He did not believe Jim would appreciate Spock giving out personal details regarding his condition even to someone they both considered a friend.

His father’s message was more complex and related to increasing the Vulcan species. Sarek had been displeased when Spock had advised he would not bond with a female Vulcan. It required more attention to a response than Spock was currently prepared to give.

Spock had not wished to disappoint his father nor the Vulcan High Council that had requested his assistance, but it was unavoidable. His offer to supply sperm for the purpose had been met with disapproval. Vulcan disapproval, but disapproval nevertheless. However, at present it was the only solution Spock would consider. Even if it was perhaps from a more emotional part of himself than he wanted to acknowledge.

The back door opened and Jim walked inside the house. His cheeks were slightly pink.

“Are you cold?” Spock asked.

“A little. Clouds are coming in. I think it might snow later.”

“Snow?”

Jim smiled a little. “Yeah, it snows here. You do know that, right?”

“I was aware but did not think much about it,” Spock admitted. “I do not believe I brought clothing for snow.”

“Well you can either wear mine or stay indoors where it won’t matter. Personally I recommend staying inside.” Jim went and squatted by the fireplace, inspecting the wood. “Looks like we have enough for the rest of today, anyway. And the heater works if it gets too cold. Got extra blankets too.”

“I am certain it will be manageable.”

Jim stood and leaned against the hearth. “The other option is if you leave now you might be able to get a shuttle back to San Francisco.”

For a moment, Spock let himself feel disappointment that once again Jim was trying to send him away. But he pushed that aside almost immediately. He would not so easily be manipulated.

“I reject that option.”

Jim shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“I am glad we have that settled. I thought we would have potato soup for dinner with those rolls you selected at the store,” Spock told him. “I request your assistance with peeling and chopping the potatoes later this afternoon.”

Jim opened his mouth.

“I do not believe I wish to be the only one preparing meals for us while we are here,” Spock interrupted.

“Well, but I didn’t invite you.”

“Irrelevant as I am now here.”

Jim sighed. “Fine. I guess I can do that.”

Spock arched a brow. “I am certain you can.”

Jim just stared at Spock for a moment and then he shifted. “That tea of yours sort of smells good.”

“This is the orange spiced one we selected at the store.” Spock stood up from the couch. “Would you like some?”

“Yeah.” Jim pushed away from the hearth and followed Spock into the kitchen. “But I can do it. You’re right. I’ve been acting like I’m an invalid or something and I’m not.”

“I did not say that.”

“Not in those words. But it’s true anyway. Even though I didn’t want you here, I guess you _are_ here, so we might as well make the best of it.”

“You are a gracious host.”

Jim snorted. “Was that sarcasm from a Vulcan?”

“Affirmative.”

Jim shook his head and filled up the tea kettle with more water. “How long are you staying again?”

“How long are you?” Spock returned.

“I told you when you asked yesterday, forever.”

Spock nodded. “Very well, but I will need more clothing.”

Jim laughed and Spock had to admit he liked the sound.


	8. Mothers

Spock found Jim that afternoon sitting in a green cushioned high backed chair in a room on the upper floor. Spock had been doing preparation for the evening meal they would have and had noticed the house had become almost eerily quiet.

The room was dark, but Spock saw the figure in the chair and he flipped on the light switch.

The sudden light made Jim squint a bit but otherwise he didn’t react to Spock’s presence. Jim was just staring into space.

Spock noticed a synthetic fur throw on the bed, so he picked it up and placed it around Jim, then sat on the bed directly across from Jim’s position.

Jim finally looked at Spock. “Is it time to peel and chop the potatoes?”

“Not yet. There is time.” Spock looked around the room. “What is this room?”

“It was Sam’s when we were kids. Before he left me. I mean before he left here,” Jim quickly corrected. “Funny how when I got here I put sheets on the bed. Even without him dying, he would never have come back here.”

“Have you spoken with your mother?”

“Had to. I was the one who told her about Sam and his family. She amazed me really.”

“How so?”

Jim shrugged. “She’s suffered all this loss and she keeps getting through it. She’s stronger than me.”

“You are strong.”

“Not like her. She lost dad, her parents, two other husbands, though Frank was no loss, and now Sam. And her grandson.”

“She has you.”

Jim shook his head. “Does she? I haven’t been a good son to her in…hell I don’t know if I ever was. I was always angry and rebellious. She did the best she could, it just wasn’t good enough. Not for me. Not for Sam.”

Spock wasn’t sure what to say to that so he said nothing. Sometimes the complexities of human emotions escaped him. Perhaps because Spock did not want to understand them.

“I saw it, you know,” Jim said into the sudden silence.

“What?”

“Your mom’s picture. I was in your quarters once by myself and I don’t know why, but I went through your drawers.”

“You were snooping.”

Jim nodded. “Yeah, I was. I guess I just, I don’t know, it wasn’t that long after our first time together and I wanted to know something about you. Anything really. You got called away to one of the labs and you told me you’d be back and to just stay, so I did.” He paused, then gazed at Spock. “I found her picture in the drawer under some of your stuff.”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t know you had it. She looked really young.”

“She was,” Spock replied. “It was taken when she was twenty. My father gave it to me after her death.”

“Do you look at it often?”

“At least once a day every day,” Spock admitted. He had never told anyone about it. Was ashamed by the weakness.

“I’m sorry, Spock. I don’t know why it never occurred to me that you miss her.”

“I do. She was my mother.”

Jim blinked and curled tighter under the throw Spock placed on him. “Do you-do you want to talk about her?”

“What is there to say?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes when we miss someone we talk about them, I guess.”

Spock thought about that. “Acknowledged. However, I find it difficult to think about her. It…makes me emotional.”

“There’s nothing really wrong with that, is there?”

“I do not know. I have been taught the study of logic is better than to give into the emotions churning within us.”

“You earn respect from others by being logical,” Jim said.

“Yes. It has always been the way I was taught. I have struggled with it since I was a boy. I have considered Kolinahr.”

“You have?”

Spock nodded. “More than once.”

“That’s…I don’t know what to say to that.”

Spock stood. “I am going to make tea. Would you like some?”

Jim unwound the throw and stood up. “I’ll go with you. I need to start on the potatoes anyway.”

They went down the stairs together and when they reached the kitchen, Jim asked him, “You want me to put on the heat? It’s getting a little chilly.”

Spock looked out the kitchen window. “The snow has begun.”

“Those are just flurries.”

“Is that not snow?”

“Yeah, sort of. It’s just it’s gonna get worse. Heat?”

“That would be agreeable.”

“Hopefully there won’t be too much weird smell.”

“Weird smell?”

“It hasn’t been turned on for a while.”

“You did not turn it on while you have been here for a week?” Spock wondered.

Jim shrugged. “You know me, always hot.”

Unbidden, an image of a sweat soaked Jim writhing under Spock as Spock pounded into him rose to Spock’s mind. Spock quickly pushed it away.

Instead, he asked again, “Tea?”

Jim’s lips curved just a little. “That would be agreeable.”


	9. An Ache That’s Like a Living, Breathing Thing

“Mm. Oh my God.”

Spock’s eyebrow lifted. “Captain?”

Jim had a moment’s amusement about Spock not being able to break the habit of calling him captain. He shook his head.

“This soup. It’s amazing. I think I forgot what real food tasted like.” They were seated across from each other at the dining room table with their soup and rolls, which Spock had warmed. It had been steadily snowing for a few hours now.

“It is a simple recipe,” Spock said.

“Still, it’s great.”

“I am gratified you think so, because I am hopeful you will consume a good quantity.”

“Is that your Vulcan way of telling me to eat more?”

“Yes,” Spock replied.

“Okay, look, Spock, I know you mean well, but I can take care of myself. Really. I don’t need another mother. Or even another Bones.”

Spock stiffened at that but said nothing.

Jim frowned. “What?”

“It is nothing.”

“Don’t give me that shit. What?”

“It is illogical.”

“I doubt that. Do I have to make it an order?”

Spock’s eyebrow went up again. “You have resigned as my captain, remember?”

“Spock!”

Spock hesitated, but then gave a little shrug. “It merely disconcerts me that the doctor is allowed to have a special relationship with you I am not permitted to have.”

Jim opened his mouth, then closed it. “Spock, he’s not _allowed_ to have one versus you. It’s just…he’s my friend.”

“Am I not your friend?”

Jim’s throat clogged. “Yeah. Yeah, you are. But I’ve known Bones longer and –”

“Human friendships are based on how long the acquaintance has been?”

Jim frowned. “Well, no. Yes. Sometimes. But Bones is also a doctor, so I guess I cut him some slack when he bugs me about it because I think he’s coming at it from those concerns.”

“Your health is of concern to me as well.”

“No, I know. I guess…I just don’t really think sometimes, Spock. I just think, God, he’s treating me like I’m too stupid and illogical to know when to eat or something.”

“I see.”

“I don’t think you do,” Jim said quietly. “I don’t want you to ever think less of me.”

“I do not.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes it feels like you do.”

Spock was quiet and Jim went back to eating his soup.

“Jim?”

“Yeah?”

“I apologize. It was never my intention to make you doubt how I view you.”

Jim forced a smile. Trying not to think about how Spock chose his father’s wishes over him. Because Jim just didn’t matter compared to the Vulcan species. And yeah he got it. He really did. Logical. Spock had changed his mind, yeah, but his first instinct had been to agree and not even talk to Jim. He waved his hand at Spock to tell him it didn’t matter. “It’s okay, Spock. I know I’m illogical and all that.”

Spock nodded. “You are. But there is no one I respect and admire more than you.”

That was practically a declaration of love from Spock, something neither of them had done during their three months together, and Jim was pretty sure he wasn’t ready for it now either.

“Thanks for caring about what I eat,” Jim said. “My eating habits have been shitty since Tarsus, honestly.”

“I have read the files that were available about the famine on Tarsus IV.”

“Reading about them?” Jim shook his head. “They don’t really tell you what it was like. How awful it was. How terrible he was.”

“Kodos?”

Jim nodded, his throat tightening. “Yeah. There were some people who wanted to eat the other people when they were killed. At first, Kodos allowed it.” He felt a piercing pain behind his eyes. Shook his head quickly. “I-I can’t talk about it. Please don’t make me.”

“I will not,” Spock said gently.

Jim got up from the table with his mostly empty soup bowl. “You finished?”

“Yes.”

He picked up Spock’s bowl too and took them both to the sink, rinsing them before putting them in the sonic dishwasher. He went into the living room and bent down to throw some logs in the fireplace and start a fire.

By the time Jim got it going, Spock was sitting on the couch holding his PADD. Jim eyed the other end of the couch.

“Mind if I just lay there and close my eyes for a bit?”

“I do not,” Spock replied. “There are some matters related to the Enterprise I must see to.”

Jim nodded and lay down, closing his eyes.

****

Jim opened his eyes later, he really wasn’t sure how long he’d dozed off, when he felt fingers on his face. Spock knelt on the floor next to him, his fingers brushing softly over Jim’s cheekbones.

Their gazes met, held. Jim’s lips parted, his tongue came out to trace his bottom lip. What he was thinking was a bad idea. A really bad idea.

“Ashaya,” Spock whispered.

Jim swallowed, shook his head. “I can’t, Spock. It’s not that I don’t want to. You have no idea how much I want your lips on mine, your hands all over me. I want you in me, surrounding me, all over me. It’s an ache that’s like a living, breathing thing. I crave you like no one else. But it won’t fix anything. It’ll just be this temporary thing that just fucks us up in the long run. “

Jim reached his hand up to Spock’ s cheek and mirrored his touch.

“You know I never told you that I fucking love you so damn much I can’t even breathe sometimes. But sometimes…sometimes love isn’t enough.”

For a few stuttered heartbeats Spock just stared at him, his dark eyes never shifting, never changing, just full of thunderclouds, full of so much emotion it was staggering. Then Spock’s hand dropped from Jim’s face and Spock pulled back with a sharp nod.

Spock stood and tugged down his shirt. “If you do not mind, I will retire so that I can meditate.”

“Okay,” Jim whispered.

He watched as Spock picked up the PADD he had left on the couch and then walked stiffly away.


	10. A Kiss

“Captain?”

Jim was tempted to ignore the call from the farmhouse, but with a sigh, he said, “I’m out here, Spock.”

He heard the door close and then Spock’s footsteps crunching in the snow.

“Why are you laying in the snow?”

Jim looked up at the sky. It had temporarily stopped snowing. “Felt like it.”

“It is freezing and you are wearing only pants and a thin T-shirt.”

Jim shrugged. “So?”

“Come inside, Captain.”

“I’m gonna stay out here.”

Spock stared down at him, his face stern. “Why?”

“I need to be numb and you won’t let me have a fucking drink.”

“You are trying to do harm to yourself.”

Jim laughed. “No shit.”

“I request that you rise from the ground and accompany me into the house.”

“Spock, go back into the house. I’m sure you’re cold.”

“I am freezing and I am wearing a coat. You are not.”

Jim closed his eyes.

Spock was quiet for a few minutes. Then his voice came out low and raw. “You told me you loved me. Then get up and go into the house because you love me.”

“Fuck.”

“Please.”

“This is not fucking fair,” Jim said, his throat closing.

“It is not. It is all I have.”

Jim covered his eyes with his hands, shook his head.

“I will carry you inside myself if necessary,” Spock said quietly. “I would prefer not to have to resort to that.”

“Fine. I give up,” Jim said, sitting up.

Jim took Spock’s offered hand and he was pulled to his feet.

“You will not be _giving up_ as long as I have breath.” Spock’s hand encircled his wrist and yanked him toward the farmhouse. When they were inside, Spock’s brown eyes were turbulent.  He took off the coat he wore and then turned to Jim. “You are wet.”

“Uh-huh,” Jim acknowledged. “And fucking cold.”

“You do try my patience like no other.” Spock reached for the hem of Jim’s T-shirt and pulled the shirt up over Jim’s head. He rubbed Jim’s bare arms and then shook his head. “Your skin temperature is too low. Were you trying to give yourself hypothermia?”

“Maybe.” Jim glared.

“And when you intended to ride a horse while intoxicated that was also because you wished to do yourself harm.”

“I guess it would be easier to just slit my wrists but I’ve never been about easy.”

“Take your pants off,” Spock ordered.

“What?”

“In order to get you warm we will need to remove the rest of your wet clothing.”

“Spock, why don’t you just go back to San Francisco and leave me alone?” Jim demanded.

“I cannot.”

“Why the fuck not?” Jim shouted.

“Because whether I wish it or not I am in love with you and I do not wish to lose you.”

Jim’s chest tightened and he found it almost impossible to breathe. He blinked, licked his chapped lips. “Whether you wish it or not?”

“Yes.”

Jim searched his gaze. “You don’t want to be?”

“No,” Spock admitted hoarsely.

Jim nodded, looked away. “Okay. I’ll get out of these wet clothes.”

He sat on the dining room chair, took off his shoes and wet socks, and then peeled off the cold, soaked pants that stuck to his skin. He sat only in his briefs.

“Those too.”

“Spock—”

“My goal is to make you warm, not ravish you,” Spock aid curtly.

“Right.” Jim felt himself blush a little. He stood and lowered the briefs, then stepped out of them. He was now entirely naked and even though obviously Spock had seen him that way plenty of times, Jim felt stupid standing in front of him that way. “I-uh-should go up and take a hot shower or something and get dressed.”

But before he could move toward the stairs, Spock gathered him into his arms and held him impossibly close. Spock’s hands rubbed up and down Jim’s back.

“What are you doing?” Jim whispered.

“Body heat works well.”

Jim closed his eyes, swallowed. Prayed that Spock wouldn’t notice that his cock was apparently warmer than the rest of him because it was very much interested in what Spock was doing.

Spock’s hand was suddenly on Jim’s jaw, tilting his face back to look at him. Their gazes met, held.

“Spock.” He shuddered when Spock’s thumb brushed across his bottom lip. Spock had lowered his head until their lips were only inches apart. He could feel Spock’s breaths against his face.

“I wish to kiss you,” Spock whispered.

Jim simply nodded his permission.

Spock’s lips hovered over his, less than an inch away. “You are right. It would solve nothing.”

He swallowed, couldn’t speak. Spock was still sliding a hand up and down his back, dipping low almost to Jim’s buttocks.

Spock leaned forward a little until his lips brushed Jim’s, a bare butterfly’s touch. It was not enough…it was too much.

He closed his eyes and sought Spock’s lips with his own. They tasted of spiced tea and just…Spock.

Spock’s hand came up to cradle the back of Jim’s head as he deepened the kiss. Hard, demanding, searching. Spock’s tongue slid into Jim’s mouth, tangling with his and Jim clung to Spock, feeling an ache in the pit of his stomach.

No one did this to him but Spock. Twisted him up, wrung him out, made him burn until he was nothing but flames.

Jim whimpered as he felt Spock pull away. Spock leaned his forehead against Jim’s, both of them were panting. God, he could just crawl all over Spock.

Spock pulled back, putting more space between them, and it was like a sudden dose of reality. Spock had just said he didn’t want to love Jim.

Jim pushed out of his embrace. “That shower. I should—”

“Yes.”

Jim nodded. “Yeah. Going.” He forced himself to turn around— still completely, obviously aroused—and over to the stairs. He didn’t dare look back at Spock.    


	11. T'Leynti

Spock stood in the dining room staring straight ahead for several minutes after Jim had gone upstairs. Jim’s wet clothes were scattered on the floor. Spock’s controls were teetering on the edge and if he didn’t meditate soon they would crumble altogether.

He bent down and picked up Jim’s wet clothes and after throwing them in the laundry room, Spock headed upstairs.

Spock had an urge to check on Jim. He did not like to be apart from him for long, not since he knew Jim was suicidal. He was fairly certain—no he was certain—his own mental health was tied to Jim’s. It had taken him a while to understand just what Jim was to him, but Spock knew now.

Spock was trying to save his t’hy’la.

Outside Jim’s room he stopped when he heard Jim speaking.

“I don’t know, Bones. I’m really not sure why he’s here. He doesn’t wanna be.”

Jim sounded so forlorn, Spock’s throat closed painfully.

“I don’t think we’re gonna. No, he’s…it doesn’t matter. I didn’t contact you to talk to you about me and Spock. I wanna know how you are. That’s good. Really good. Okay. I’m supposed to take a shower. Yeah I went outside. No, I’m fine, Bones. You worry about you, okay? All right. Talk soon.”

Spock remained standing there until he heard Jim turn on the shower in the bathroom next to his bedroom. He went to the room he’d been assigned by Jim and attempted to get it ready for meditation.

Then he remembered the PADD he’d left downstairs, the one he was about to look at when he’d gone outside for Jim, and he decided to fetch it and read his messages first.

He sat on the couch and picked up his PADD. Another message from both Nyota and Mr. Scott. Also one from Dr. McCoy inquiring after Jim’s health as he was certain Jim was not being honest with him. And finally another from his father.

_Spock,_

_It is my unfortunate task to advise you that we have lost another elder, T’Leynti. She passed on last night in her sleep. Due to our decreased population it seems especially troublesome to face yet another loss. Of course we all must die as is logical._

_I am aware that you were well-acquainted with Elder T’Leynti in your youth as she was one of your preferred instructors in school. As a species we can only grieve the loss of another of our own._

_Live Long and Prosper, my son. And the same to your captain._

_Father_

Spock read the message four times. Which was, of course, completely illogical. No matter how many times he read his father’s words it would not change the content of the message.

He remembered her well. Of course he did. As a small curious boy T’Leynti had assisted him with his lessons. Spent extra time with him. She had never treated him as less though he was only half-Vulcan.

Spock knew feeling sorrow for one Vulcan after so many had perished was foolish. He had seen many deaths. Heard and felt the cries, the anguish of the fallen. Watched his mother die before him. Watched his t’hy’la die before him, though he had not known it then. Yet now reading his father’s message about T’Leynti for the fifth time, Spock was shaken.

He didn’t even know Jim had come down stairs until he was suddenly standing in front of Spock.

“Spock? You okay?”

He found he did not have an answer.

“Spock?” Jim knelt in front of him. “Spock? What’s wrong? What is it?”

Spock shook his head.

“Hey,” Jim touched his cheek. “Hey, what is it? Oh, my God, you’re shaking. Are you cold? What’s wrong?”

And then Jim was suddenly in his lap, straddling him. He wrapped his arms tight around Spock.

“What is it? What’s wrong? God, you’re shaking so much.”

Spock buried his face in Jim’s neck. He slid his hands under Jim’s flannel shirt, desperate for the feel of his mate’s skin. His shields were still holding, barely, but the feel of Jim’s skin gave him a small amount of comfort.

Jim tightened his hold with one arm and then leaned down to pick up Spock’s PADD. “What is this?”

Finally Spock found the words, “A message from my father.”

Jim brought it up close to his face to read it, he still would not admit to being a bit nearsighted, and read it while still holding Spock.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, setting the PADD aside. “Sounds like she was important to you.” Spock nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Spock pulled Jim closer, slid his hands up Jim’s back, over more skin.

“What do you need? What do you want?” Jim was asking but Spock only shook his head. “Do you want me to make you tea?

“No. I-stay, please.”

“All right. I’m here.”

Spock didn’t know how long they stayed like that but he did not wish to pull away. Eventually he whispered, “It is illogical to be like this. I am ashamed.”

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of grieving, Spock.”

“There have been so many.”

“I know. God, I know.” Jim brushed the bangs off Spock’s forehead. “Sometimes the one matters more than the many.”

“It is not logical.”

“No. Perhaps not.” Jim pulled away just enough to look at Spock’s face. “I’ll make you some tea. And some dinner. What do you want?”

“You are going to cook for me?”

Jim’s smile was very gentle. “I can cook. And it will even be edible.”

Spock nodded. “Very well. But not for a while.” He couldn’t let go. Not yet.

Jim pulled him close again. “All right. Whatever you want.”

Spock closed his eyes and buried his face in Jim's neck once more.


	12. Connection

“What are you making?” Spock asked Jim as he walked into the kitchen. He had gone to meditate for an hour after Jim had found him after the news he’d received from his father.

Jim smiled. It seemed falsely cheerful to Spock, but it was a smile. “Spaghetti with marinara sauce. Oh, and garlic bread. I said I can cook, never said I was a gourmet.”

“It smells good.”

Jim nodded. “Your meditation help?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” The too cheerful smile again. “Want some tea?”

“I will get it,” Spock said, watching Jim carefully as he stirred the marinara sauce on the stove. “What would you like to drink?”

“Well, what I’d like is a beer or a glass of wine, but since you vetoed all that—”

“You were using alcohol as a crutch.”

“Is that what I was doing?”

Spock exhaled slowly. “Yes. Jim, we should talk.”

“No, really. We shouldn’t. The last thing I want right now is your analyzing me.”

“It is not my intention to analyze you.”

Jim shook his head, stirred the sauce. “I’ll have tea, just like you.”

Spock nodded and went to the sink to fill the tea kettle. He looked out the window at the blanket of white. “It is still snowing.”

“Yeah, probably will be through tomorrow at least. I’ll go out in the morning and chop more wood if you want.”

“I am capable of chopping the wood, Jim. I do not mind.”

“If you want, sure.” Jim pointed to the table. “Dinner’s almost ready, so sit.”

Spock finished their cups of tea and brought them to the table and sat waiting for Jim. When Jim brought the plates of spaghetti and the basket of garlic bread, Spock had to admit it looked good.

“Jim,” Spock spoke up after a few minutes of eating in silence. “It was not my intention to punish you by removing the alcohol from the house. I am concerned for your welfare.”

Jim sighed. “I know that, Spock. It’s just, I’m a little old to have someone trying to parent me.”

“I am not trying to parent you. You are my—” Spock stopped himself. It was too soon to tell Jim of their true connection.

“Your?”

“Friend.”

Jim’s jaw clenched and Spock inwardly flinched.

“Is being my friend so bad?” Spock asked quietly.

“No. Just once…I thought we were much more than that.”

“We are. It is difficult.”

“Are we? I don’t know. Maybe we made too many mistakes, Spock. It’s hard to go back.”

“You told me you love me.”

Jim nodded. “And you said you didn’t want to love me.”

“Ashaya.” Spock put down his fork and reached for Jim’s hand. After a moment’s hesitation, Jim relented and let Spock have it. “As a Vulcan I struggle with emotions. I do not want them to control me. But emotions where you are concerned are particularly strong and therefore troublesome.”

“They’re strong for me, too,” Jim said softly, staring at their clasped hands. “I-I don’t know how to deal with all this, Spock.”

“That is why I am here. To assist you.”

“You didn’t want to be with me.”

Spock’s heart squeezed. “It was not that. I thought it was my responsibility as a Vulcan to do as was requested of me. We lost six billion of our species. Should I not help restore the Vulcans to the best of my ability?”

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one.”

“That is the way I saw it, yes.”

Jim closed his eyes. “I just wanted someone to want  _me_. Not anyone else. Not anything else. No other considerations. Just me.” He shook his head. “I know that’s fucked up, I know that’s wrong. So fucking selfish. And you wanting to sacrifice what we had for the greater good—”

“I thought that was what I wanted, what I needed, but I was wrong, ashaya. I could not do it.”

Jim opened his eyes and stared at Spock for a long time without saying a word. “I’m sorry for Marlena,” he said finally.

“I know why you did it.”

“I don’t think you do,” Jim whispered. “I wanted you to know. I wanted to punish you. Wanted to rip your heart out like you did mine.”

“I do know that, Jim.”

“I don’t know that your changing your mind would have made any difference. I would have done it anyway.”

Spock nodded. “I am aware of that too. I believe we would have gotten through all of that if not for the attack on Sydra IV.”

“Because you love me?” Jim asked, his tone a little bitter.

“Because we are t’hy’la.” 


	13. T'hy'la

“T’hy’la?” Jim repeated. The spaghetti sat in his stomach like lead weight. “You’ve gotta be kidding me?”

“I do not find this to be a time for jests,” Spock replied. “A t’hy’la is a sacred bond with a brother, friend, lover.”

Jim snorted. “I _know_ what it is, Spock.”

“You do?”

“I looked it up after your counterpart melded with me. He and his Jim Kirk had a t’hy’la bond.”

“You did not advise me of this.”

Anger radiated up from his gut, powerful and potent. “When was I supposed to do that? When you were choking me? When you were fucking Uhura? When you filed a report behind my back? When you reluctantly admitted we were friends?  Or no, how about when you decided to leave me to make Vulcan babies?”

“If I had known the exact nature of our connection circumstances would have been different.”

“Well, I hate to break this to you, Spock, but I didn’t think _we_ were what they were. I figured just because they had this grand bond connection in their lives didn’t mean we did. You said yourself everything about our lives was changed. And you certainly didn’t act like you thought I was your bondmate.” Jim laughed without mirth and rose from the table. “Even when we started sleeping together you never once wanted to meld with me or any of that.”

“I thought—”

“I know what you thought. You thought we were just playing around, having sex with no reason for commitment.” Jim rinsed his plate in the sink. “Oh, you felt something for me, all right, but you hated that you did, so you did whatever you could to avoid feeling this bond you now claim we have.”

“All that you say is true and I am ashamed,” Spock said, rising from his chair. “I did not realize the depths of what we had until I sought to end our relationship. It was the discovery of our bond that made me realize that it would be impossible to mate with another.”

“Yet your father still wants it.”

“I have only recently advised him that we are bonded.”

Jim sighed. “Why is that? No, you know what? I’m sure I don’t want to know. Probably has something to do with the fact that you hate that you love me.”

“I did not say I hated it,” Spock insisted.

“No, you said you did not wish to be.”

“You make me feel, Jim. So much. More than any other. It pains me, frightens me, steals my control. I am Vulcan. I am not supposed to feel this way. I value logic. You are illogical. I want to conquer you, take you, make you mine. You turn me back to the Vulcan days of savagery.”

Jim turned away, staring out the window. “You make me feel pretty raw, too.”

Spock did not answer at first, but when he did speak, he said, “I know. Hurting one’s t’hy’la as I have done you is unforgiveble. I do not blame you if you wish to pretend the bond does not exist.”

“And how do I do that, Spock?”

“Mental shields would block the bond from both of us. It is how I have been controlling it now.”

“Keeping it from me, you mean.”

“You were mentally unstable after the events of Sydra IV. I did not wish to add to your distress.”

Jim stared out at the snow, seeing nothing but white and feeling numb. Or wishing he did. “Mentally unstable.”

“Jim—”

He turned his gaze from the snow to Spock. The Vulcan stood very close to him. His expression was blank as Jim expected, but his brown eyes showed sorrow, turmoil, dismay.

“I can’t deal with this right now,” Jim whispered. His chest felt like there was a gaping hole where his heart should beat.

“Deal with it?”

“You’re all I want, Spock. You’ve always been all I want. And I don’t know if it’s you or me or this fucking bond, but I need you so much it petrifies me.” He shook his head. “I’m going to my room.”

“I do not understand.”

“I can’t face you right now, all right?” Jim gestured to the dishes in the sink and the pots on the stove. “I’ll deal with this tomorrow. Good night, Spock.”

****

He woke in a cold sweat, panting heavily. He thought he might have screamed. Knew he had, in fact, when his bedroom door opened and Spock flipped on the light.

“Are you all right?” Spock demanded, his dark hair standing on end in an all too appealing way.

Jim rubbed his hand over his face. “Yeah. Um, bad dream.”

Spock seemed to visibly collect himself, then he came to sit on the edge of the bed, next to Jim. “I would ease your distress.”

“How?” he asked warily.

Spock lifted his fingers to Jim’s face. There was pleading in his eyes, like he needed this as much as Jim did. Maybe he did. Maybe they both did.

Jim licked his lips and nodded.

They’d never done this. Never done a lot of things, really.

Spock’s fingers pressed to his face and then Spock’s consciousness joined with his.

It was a swirl of thoughts, emotions…intertwining. Golden threads braiding together. Spock’s voice, his voice. A lion, a dolphin. Flashes of memories, desires, yearnings, sorrow. A brick wall crumbling, the bricks crashing below. And waves crashing about the shore.

Jim became aware then and Spock was kissing him, desperately molding his mouth to Jim’s. His tongue sought entry and Jim opened his mouth to allow Spock’s tongue inside. He was pushed underneath the Vulcan’s heavier weight, flat on his back as Spock hungrily devoured him. And all Jim wanted to do was devour him back.

He was lost.


	14. Some Progress

“Spock,” Jim groaned. “Spock, please. Please.”

“Anything, ashaya, anything you want,” Spock vowed.

Jim drew Spock’s mouth back to his, fusing their lips together, hot, rough, angry almost. Their teeth clacked together as he deepened the kiss. He threaded his fingers into Spock’s hair, roughly tugging on the silky dark strands.

Spock shook as his hands roamed down Jim’s chest, to his abs and then down to the crotch of his boxer shorts. His fingers curled around the bulge in Jim’s shorts.

“Fuck,” Jim gasped, thrusting up to meet Spock’s questing fingers. “Take me. Please.” He knew he was begging, didn’t even care. He wanted Spock now.

Jim’s hips rose as Spock pulled off his boxer shorts and left them at the foot of the bed. Spock removed his pajama bottoms and T-shirt and then covered Jim’s naked body with his, grasping Jim’s wrists and holding Jim’s arms above his head as he crushed their mouths together.

He whimpered low in his throat when Spock’s hand fisted his erection and began to pump him, all the while keeping their mouths locked. It was like Jim’s whole body was electrified and he realized that Spock was still in his head, too, and it felt fucking fantastic. He could feel what Spock felt too and knew Spock was just as turned on, just as orgasmic as he was.

Their connection jumped, shook, and then solidified until Jim couldn't tell where his mind started and ended. They were together as one. When Spock released his wrists, he clung to Spock, panting against Spock’s neck.

Jim slid his own hand down between their bodies seeking Spock’s dick, his fingers curling around the head. He was rewarded by a soft mewling coming from Spock’s lips or maybe it was his. He could no longer tell.

Then he was coming, his cock erupting, cum splashing out over Spock’s hand and Spock tensing and coming right after him.

Jim wrapped his arms around Spock, not wanting to let go, trying to pull him closer.

“It is all right, t’hy’la,” Spock whispered, but Jim shook his head. “You are crying.”

“No,” Jim insisted, his throat aching, his voice thick with tears.

"You are. It pains me to see you cry. You are my heart. Let me help. I am here, Jim. I will keep you safe.”

“I’m so tired of death, Spock. So much death.”

“I know, ashayam. But you and I are alive. We must use our lives well and for good.”

Jim nodded, clutching Spock tighter. “I dream of it.”

“Death?”

“Yes. My death. Your death. The deaths of all those Vulcans. And Sydra IV. I hear their screams. I feel their panic.”

“They are dreams only. I can soothe your dreams, your pain. If you will let me.”

“With the bond?” Jim asked.

Spock nodded.

“But-but you didn't want it.”

“I was afraid, but I am not now. I came here to find you, Jim. To be with you. If I did not want it, I would not have come to Riverside. If you never wish to be in Starfleet again, then I will resign my commission and I will stay with you wherever you will be.”

Jim nodded, not trusting himself to speak for a moment. His eyes stung from his tears and he sniffed from his runny nose. “I’m a mess,” he said finally. “I don’t think I can sleep now.”

“I can make us tea if you wish.”

He smiled a little. “Okay. Maybe we could sit out on the porch together.”

Spock arched a brow. “It’s been snowing. It will be cold.”

“We’ll snuggle under blankets and sip our tea.” He reached for Spock’s hand and squeezed it. “Please?”

“I would do anything for you, t’hy’la.” Spock stood and pulled Jim from the bed. “I suggest you put on warm clothing.”

“All right. I’ll be down in a moment,” Jim assured him. When Spock left, Jim pulled on jeans and a thermal shirt as well as socks and boots. He then turned to his PADD.

_‘Hey Bones. I hope you are doing better. Spock has been great and very patient with me. I think we’re going to be okay. Here’s something to cheer you up. We’ve both admitted we love each other. Doesn’t that just get you right in your happy heart? No? Well, deep down I know you are happy for us. We both love you too, Bones. You are our friend and brother. Our comrade. Spock won’t say it so I will say it for him. I hope to see you soon._

_Love, Jim’_     

He put down his PADD and went to be with Spock.  


	15. On the Porch

“I believe we require more blankets,” Spock told Jim.

“Nah, it’s called body heat, Spock.”

They were laid out on a lounger that barely fit the two of them. Spock, in fact, had hypothesized it would not actually fit them, but Jim had insisted and so they were squished together on it under several blankets. Spock only had one free hand with which he held his cup of tea.

“You do seem to be an exceptionally hot human,” Spock allowed.

Jim waggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Think so?”

Spock managed to hide his amusement. “Yes, although I was speaking of your body temperature not your physical appeal.”

“Hmm.”

“However, if you require compliments after coitus, I will accommodate your needs.”

Jim snorted. “You aren’t any better at this than you were before, you know that?”

Spock acknowledged that. “I have not changed, it is true.”

Jim shook his head. “So. I guess we should talk some about it.”

“About?”

“Your deciding to make Vulcan babies instead of being with me, for one.”

“I see.”

“And my deciding to fuck around on you for the other.”

Spock’s gut clenched. He did not want to have this conversation as everything was pleasant at the moment, but he was aware humans seemed to need some sort of closure. And Jim especially.

“Very well.” Spock took a soothing sip of hot tea. Despite the blankets and Jim’s heat, he was still cold. He did not much care for Riverside or its snow.

“I’ve already admitted I basically wanted to hurt you,” Jim said softly. “It’s the wrong reaction to have and I know it. I was just so hurt and angry that you chose them over me.” He sighed. “And God, that is so fucking selfish. I hate myself sometimes.”

“I do not,” Spock told him. “I never could. No matter what you have done or said. I cherish you.”

“You shouldn’t,” Jim said, his voice sounding thick again and Spock feared Jim was getting emotional again.

“T’hy’la, I will not deny your actions caused me distress, however, I am aware of my own culpability in their execution.”

Jim snuggled closer to Spock and Spock was gratified. He tightened his arm around Jim.

“You had a right to expect that I would choose you over the wishes of my father and the Vulcan High Counsel. I believe that I would have always come to the realization of that in time even if I had not discovered our bond.”

“You were torn by duty.”

“A Vulcan takes his duties seriously,” Spock admitted.

“And you do especially.”

“Perhaps to my detriment,” Spock agreed.

“No. I should have been more understanding.”

Spock shook his head. “I do not believe I would have understood if you had made a similar announcement to me.”

Jim sighed. “Even still I could have tried harder to convince you it was a mistake. I just…accepted it. Because—”

“You did not really believe you were destined to be happy.”

“Yeah. That was someone else’s life. Not mine. Never mine.”

“I wish to change that idea. I would formally bond if you will allow it.”

Jim leaned back to gaze at Spock. “I thought the bond was in place.”

“It is,” Spock assured him. “It would be a similar ceremony to what Vulcan children who are bonded go through. More a formality in front of the Elders.”

“And your father.”

“Yes.”

“Do you need that to prove something to him?” Jim wondered.

“No, ashaya. I have something to prove to you.”

“What?”

“That I choose you, I choose our bond.”

Jim visibly swallowed, his eyes looking wet. “You don’t have to.”

“Perhaps not. I want to, nevertheless.”

Jim was quiet for a moment and then he asked, “Why?”

“So that you will know I do not regret loving you,” Spock quietly explained.

“I’m still a mess. I have nightmares and night sweats and sometimes I freak out for no reason.”

“I am aware you are still suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. We will face it together.” Spock hesitated. He did not want to ask, but felt he must. “If you will allow me.”

He didn’t respond for a long time and Spock almost gave up hope.

“All right.” His whisper was soft and almost carried away by the snow, but Spock clung to it and let its promise soothe him.


	16. Visiting

“If you are not ready to leave here, we do not have to go,” Spock said to Jim. He was concerned at how quiet Jim had gotten since he’d announced to Spock he wanted to go to San Francisco to see Dr. McCoy.

“No, I want to,” Jim assured him.

They were standing outside, ready to go from the farm to the shuttle that would take them to San Francisco. Jim’s blue eyes flicked everywhere across the snowy yard and to the house.

Spock reached across their newly opened bond and felt Jim’s anxiety. He tried to project as much surface calm as he could but it did little to ease Jim’s agitation.

“Ashaya,” he said, placing his hands on Jim’s tense shoulders. “Truly. We can go back inside and cancel our trip.”

Jim shook his head. “I already told Bones I was coming.”

“I will personally contact him and explain the delay in our visit.”

“I have to do this eventually, Spock.” Jim’s gaze searched his. “I can’t stay cooped up in Riverside for the rest of our lives.”

Spock was extremely gratified to hear Jim speak of their lives and not only his. It gave him further hope that Jim would allow Spock back in Jim’s life permanently.

Jim offered him a smile then. “I’m sorry to be this way.”

“You owe me no apology.” Spock moved his hands down to Jim’s and grasped them. “Are you ready now?”

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s just for a few days, right? And then we can come back here.”

“Yes. We can come back here or go wherever you want, Jim.”

Jim took a deep breath and nodded. “Let’s go.”

While they were on the shuttle a number of people stared openly at them. It made Spock uncomfortable but he pretended not to notice until finally Jim tensed.

“What are you staring at?” Jim asked a young ensign sitting across from them.

The ensign had the grace to blush. “I’m sorry, sir. It’s just. You are Captain Kirk and Commander Spock, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“It’s just…you’re the reason I joined, sir. Everything you’ve done…it’s amazing.” The ensign was dark scarlet now. “I never thought I’d actually see you in person.”

Jim smiled and exchanged a look with Spock. “It’s okay, Ensign. We’re just like everyone else.”

“No,” the ensign said with a shake of his head. “You’re heroes.”

“Ensign—”

“We appreciate the sentiment, Ensign,” Spock interrupted.

The Ensign ducked his head but said no more and Jim reached over and squeezed Spock’s fingers.

They both seemed to care less about the stares they received then.

When they arrived in San Francisco, they made their way first to the hotel they would be staying at for the next two nights. They would see the doctor the next day.

Their room, equipped with a king-sized bed, overlooked the bay. Spock had chosen it specifically because he knew Jim found the sea soothing.

Jim smiled at Spock as Spock unpacked their clothes and put them in the provided drawers. “We’re only going to be here two nights, Spock. It’s not necessary to unpack.”

“It is not proper to live out of luggage, Captain. Jim.”

“You’re adorable, you know that?” Jim chuckled.

Spock felt his cheeks go warm, but he did not take the bait, and instead continued with his chores. When he was done he found Jim at the window, looking out at the ocean.

“Do you believe in reincarnation, Spock?”

“I do not.”

Jim laughed. “I figured. I don’t really either but if I did I would think in one of my previous lives I was a whale.”

Spock arched a brow. “A whale?”

“Yeah, for some reason I feel an affinity for them.” Jim shook his head. “Crazy, I guess.”

“Where would you like to go for dinner?”

“I want to say let’s get room service.”

Spock nodded. “I am amenable.”

“But we’re here, right? We should take advantage of one of all these great restaurants. It’s a waste to just eat here, isn’t it?”

“There is the balcony. We can bring chairs out there and eat while we watch the sun set over the water,” Spock suggested.

Jim brightened. “That sounds great.”

“Then it will be.”

“You really don’t mind?”

Spock shook his head. “Anything is good for me as long as it is what you wish, Jim.”

“Okay, I’m going to check out the room service menu.”

He felt relief through the bond and though he was not certain whether forcing Jim out in the public would have been better, Spock could not regret it to see that smile light up Jim’s face.

****

“You look really good,” Jim told Dr. McCoy as they stood at the foot of the doctor’s bed.

“I feel fine,” grumbled the doctor. “I’ve been poked and prodded. Regenerated and Re-Regenerated. They’ve shrank me until I was blue in the face.”

“Shrank you, doctor? You appear to be normal size.”

Dr. McCoy rolled his eyes. “This one thinks he’s a comedian. Shrinks, Spock. Psychiatrists.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I’ll be released next week. And for part time duty.”

Jim grinned. “That’s great news, Bones.”

“Yeah. And you two.” McCoy glared at Spock. “What’s this about undying love declarations.”

“Spock can’t resist me.”

McCoy snorted.

“It is true,” Spock agreed. “You were already aware the captain and I are in a relationship.”

“Yeah but there’s love and there’s just fucking. I thought you two were just…You know what? Never mind. I think I just made myself throw up in my mouth a little.”

Spock glanced around the room. “Do you require a vomit bag?”

McCoy coughed. “I never knew you were funny, Spock.”

“I am not attempting humor at this time.”

“Spock.” Jim shook his head, but he was smiling. Spock felt his happiness and affection for McCoy through their bond. “We’re all right, Bones. Like I told you in my message.”

McCoy studied them for a long time, not saying anything. “Well, good. Glad to hear it. Now maybe you’ll agree to see someone, Jim. Shouldn’t be just me in this funny farm.”

The smile fell from Jim’s face. “We’ll see. I hate doctors. Except you, of course.”

“I know you do,” McCoy said, voice softening. “But Spock and I and everyone want you to be okay. You know that, right?”

Jim nodded but didn’t speak.

McCoy gave a little sigh. “Help me out of this bed, will you? We can go have lunch. The food here’s terrible so don’t be expecting anything.”

Jim rolled his eyes but moved forward to help the doctor stand up. To Spock and Jim’s surprise, McCoy pulled Jim into an embrace. At first Jim stood stiff and unyielding, but after a little gasp, his arms wrapped around McCoy and his body began to shake and Spock realized Jim was crying.

Perhaps this was what Jim needed. Not just Spock but his best friend also. He was now gratified he had suggested the trip to Jim two days earlier.

“I’m sorry,” Jim mumbled as he finally pulled away from McCoy.

“Don’t be. I think that did us both some good,” McCoy muttered, looking vaguely embarrassed. He glared at Spock then. “Well?”

“I will pass on the embrace if you do not mind.”

Jim gave a watery laugh, but he leaned over to kiss Spock’s cheek. “As I said, adorable.”

“Where is that vomit bag, Spock? I think I may need it after all.”

 


	17. The Return

“Think we’ll ever come back here?” Jim asked Spock as they closed up the house in Riverside.

“I am certain we will,” Spock replied. “It is your home. You feel safe here.”

Jim glanced around the yard, the outside of the house. This time he smiled. “Yeah. I used to think there was nothing but bad memories here. But that isn’t true. And Mom? She did her best, you know. It was rough for her losing Dad. She was a good mother. Frank? He fucking sucked as a stepdad though.”

Spock knew from Jim that Frank was abusive toward his bondmate, so Spock was gratified he never had to meet the man, since he was deceased. He was not certain he could keep from applying some Vulcan revenge violence.

He picked up their bags. “Ready?”

“Yep. Let’s get going.”

They made their way off Jim’s property and this time Jim didn’t look back. He’d seen a few doctors over the last couple of months and seemed to be doing much better. He’d only had a couple of bad nightmares and Spock had been there to hold him.

When they reached San Francisco they were met by a yeoman who took them to their hotel. The suite Starfleet had supplied them with was impressive though too large for the two of them.

“Boy, the brass is going all out, aren’t they?” Jim asked, looking out at the view.

“They are pleased you agreed to return to command of the Enterprise…Commodore.” Spock liked using Jim’s new title.

Jim grinned. “Who’s crazier anyway? Me or the idiots who promote a crazy man?”

“You are not crazy.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We’ve been over this.”

Spock nodded. “Yes we have. As I was saying, they are pleased to have you back. You are a popular public figure.”

“Yeah, I saw the banner with my picture outside of the academy,” Jim said. “Join the academy and be like Kirk or some such crap.”

“You did agree to allow them to use your likeness,” Spock reminded him.

“I know. I told you crazy.”

Spock let the comment pass this time. He knew Jim was saying it in jest even though he also knew at times Jim really believed it.

Jim flopped down on the sofa in the sitting room of the suite. “What’s on the agenda, sweetheart?”

Spock arched a brow but did not comment on the endearment, deciding Jim could call him whatever he pleased. “We are having dinner with Nyota and Mr. Scott this evening.”

Jim made a face. “Oh yeah.”

“You wish to cancel?”

“Nah. I’m okay with it. It’s just weird, you know? Them together. They totally don’t go together.”

“Some would have said that about the two of us.”

Jim snorted. “Then they know nothing. We go together perfectly. Like two peas in a pod.”

Spock shook his head. Human sayings were very odd indeed. “Tomorrow you are to meet with the admirals about the Enterprise’s next mission.”

“Boring.”

Spock projected amusement through their bond which earned him a grin from Jim. “And then tomorrow we are meeting Dr. McCoy for dinner.”

“Ah, now that will be cool.”

Spock nodded. “Indeed. The following day is the parade.”

Jim scowled. “Are they still having that?”

“You agreed.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Many consider you a hero, Jim,” Spock told him quietly. “I agree a parade is illogical but the Federation believes it will make citizens happy.”

“I know,” Jim said with a sigh. “Which is why I agreed.” He patted the sofa next to him. “Come here.”

Spock obliged and was gratified when Jim linked his hand with Spock’s.

“In case I don’t say it enough,” Jim said softly. “I love you. So much.”

Spock exhaled and squeezed Jim’s fingers. “I feel your love and it is an anchor for me.”

Jim smiled. “And?”

“You are my t’hy’la, my heart, my soul, you complete me. I cherish thee above all others.”

Jim suddenly straddled Spock’s lap and touched his forehead to Spock’s. “And they say Vulcans aren’t romantic.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's another one concluded. I probably could have gone on several more chapters with the angst but well I decided they needed their HEA. I needed it to. Hope you liked it.


End file.
